


Here be Monsters

by Nurdles



Series: Game of Thrones Missing Show Scenes [3]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Dunking, F/M, Ficlet, Romance, Safe For Work, Swimming, Unresolved Romantic Tension, fic prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-23
Updated: 2014-06-23
Packaged: 2018-02-05 21:26:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1832824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nurdles/pseuds/Nurdles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>This is a continuation of <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/1707596%22">In the Blackwater</a>, in which Jaime goes into the water alone, thinking of Brienne. This time Brienne joins him for a swim in Blackwater Bay.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Here be Monsters

The sweat kept trickling into her eyes, and she cursed herself for not asking a Septa to trim her hair that morning. She’d been anxious to meet Jaime on the stone terrace before it got too hot to spar, but she may as well have taken the time; it was miserably hot in King’s Landing and the sun was not yet at its zenith.

“Hold!” she shouted as Jaime lunged at her with his sparring sword, and he nearly stumbled coming to a halt.  Brienne dropped her sword with a clatter and tried pulling a wedge of sleeve from her under tunic to wipe her eyes with it.

“Seven hells, whatever happened to ‘winter is coming’?” she muttered.

“Maybe it would come a little sooner if we talked dirty to it,” Jaime suggested drily, “I _hear_ that’s a very effective method.”

Brienne gave him a courtesy smile with no mirth in it and shook her head until droplets of water flew from her sopping hair.  In mock horror, Jaime flung up an arm to ward them off. Brienne laughed at his exaggerated expression, “You should be grateful, Ser; it might cool you off.

“Wench sweat? More like to burn pits in my skin,” he grinned. 

“We’d not want to mar your lovely Lannister looks,” Brienne said tartly, bending to pull up the hem of her padded gambeson.

“I never knew you were a poet, Brienne. What are you looking for under there?”

“A bit of cloth I can tear off to tie across my forehead. My eyes are stinging.”

“Maybe we should give up on practice for the day. We’ve been at it long enough in this heat and the Blackwater looks very inviting.” 

“I told you the other day that I haven’t any bathing apparel.”

“And I suggested your smallclothes would be enough, though after you left I waded in naked as my name day.”

_Yes, I know. I saw you_.

“Did you? Well, if _I_ went swimming with you I would expect you to keep yourself covered.”

“Is there anything you haven’t seen, Wench?” Jaime asked, keeping his tone light, “I’d think nothing would surprise you after Harrenhal.”

“Not surprise, no. All the same, the circumstances are different. It would not be proper for a maid to bathe with a naked man in public waters.”

“Even a man pledged to the Kingsguard, and, therefore, celibacy?”

“Keeping to _all_ of your vows now, are you?”

“You wound me, Brienne,” Jaime said, his lower lip pushed out in a pout, “but if you’ll join me in a swim, I promise to be as chivalrous as ever you could hope for.”

Brienne was struck speechless with conflicting thoughts on how chivalrous she _hoped_ he would be. What was appropriate and what she secretly wanted were not entirely the same.

Without waiting for her agreement, Jaime set down his practice sword and began taking his belt off single-handed. Brienne tried not gape at how smoothly he managed to pull and push at the leather until he had it un-looped and unbuckled. It slid off his hips and he kicked it aside. 

Jaime caught her watching and shrugged, “Practice. I’d as soon not have a servant helping me with every damn thing. You don’t need help with yours, do you?”

Brienne’s eyes snapped up to his face, “Pardon?”

“You’re just standing there; I thought you might need assistance. You _are_ coming with me?”  

“Yes, I could do with a swim, I think.  It’s been a long while.” She was turning away to unbuckle her belt, and barely caught his lazy grin at her modesty. 

Her heart was beating fast with the memory of the last time he’d gone in to swim alone. She’d come back to join him after all, but then she’d seen him from the wall, naked in the water… She’d fled, but not before watching him for longer than she should have. Not before she’d heard him saying her name, though he wasn’t calling to her.

Lifting her Gambeson over her head while trying to keep her under tunic in place, Brienne swore she could feel Jaime’s gaze on her back, and shivered in the heavy air _. It’s only a swim. A swim on a hot day. We both grew up on the water; it’s natural we should want to cool off after a vigorous sparring session_.

She listened for the sounds of Jaime undressing behind her, but he was either very quiet or really was just watching her. She glanced over her shoulder and saw he was already sitting on the seawall in his smallclothes, rubbing absently at the stump where his hand used to be, looking out over the bay.  The sun lit his eyes and hair, green and gold; it had been a long while since he’d looked only _half_ a god to her.

She quickly toed off her boots and pulled the laces on her breeches, sliding them off as well. She laid them with her gambeson and belt on a rock by the stairs. Her tunic covered her smallclothes and the tops of her thighs, but left a lot of leg exposed. On Tarth she wore much less to swim in, she reminded herself; there was no need to feel shy.

Striding over to Jaime, carefully keeping her expression blank, she asked, “How do we get down to the water?”

Jaime looked at her as though just recalling she was there, but she could see the smile in his eyes, the twitch of his mouth as he stood and waved his right arm to show her the trail of boulders to the shore.

“I’ll go first,” he said, sliding off the wall and landing on the first rock before bounding to the next. Brienne followed more slowly, enjoying her chance to watch him unobserved; the play of muscles in his back and legs, the smallclothes clinging to his arse. _Had she first imagined he looked like the Warrior or was it the Warrior that resembled Jaime_?

Jaime reached the water and waded in without pause. Good, it must be pleasantly warm.

Then he was facing her and watching her descent, no longer hiding his amusement. Such a wide smile, all straight teeth, deep dimples and dancing eyes. Brienne tugged at her tunic and then realized she was only pulling it tight over her breasts and crossed her arms instead, pretending she was chilled.

She leapt down the last couple of rocks and dashed into the water, Jaime’s laughter ringing in her ears. She was all the way to him in water up to her hips before realizing it was not in the least warm. 

“Gods,” she yelped, “you tricked me! This is freezing!”

He was laughing harder, his grin mischievous, “Would you have come in if I’d told you it was colder than a Wight’s teat?”

“You know I always keep my word. You might’ve warned me at least!” 

Jaime leaned back into the water and kicked away from her a little ways, “You just need to get used to it, Wench. The best way is to get wet all over and keep moving.”

She looked at him doubtfully, but bent her knees until she was submerged to her armpits, “Is this a trick, Lannister? The waters of Tarth are never this cold. This is only suitable for cod and corpses.”

Jaime swam back to her and stood. He looked down at her and held out his hand, “Race me. That’ll warm you up.”

Did he expect her to take his hand? Evidently, as he kept it out, his face serious.

“Please? Swim with me.”

Brienne raised her hand from the water, and he wrapped his fingers around it, tugging her forward. She stood and allowed him to lead them into deeper water, painfully aware of how transparent her tunic was, how rapid the beating of her heart. They were nearly as bare as they’d been in Harrenhal, but this couldn’t have been more different.

Jaime stopped when the water was up to their shoulders and pointed to a buoy floating in the distance, “To that marker. First one to touch it wins. Do you need a head start?”

“Are you kidding?” Brienne asked incredulously, and Jaime grinned at her.

“ _’All your life you’ve been knocking men into the water_ ,’ is that it? So be it, my Lady, on the count of three.”

Brienne smiled at him, flattered he remembered one of the first things she’d ever said to him. He let go her hand and they both crouched, ready to race.

“One…two…three!” 

With a splash both pushed strongly into the water. Brienne quickly took the lead, though Jaime wasn’t far behind. She began to laugh with the sheer elation of moving through the water, at besting Jaime at his game. 

Something brushed against her foot and she gasped, swallowing some of the brackish water, “What in the seven…?” she sputtered, twisting round as she swam. Jaime looked at her wide-eyed, catching up to her as she slowed.

“Something wrong?” 

“What lives in these waters?”

“Sea monsters, krakens, the usual,” he grinned, beginning to pull ahead of her.

“Did you…?”

She heard him laughing as he surged ahead of her with a sudden burst of speed. _I’ll show you sea monsters_ … She dove under the water and opened her eyes, seeing the murky silhouette of him ahead. She reached out and grabbed his ankle with both hands, yanking back hard. Surfacing, she was pleased to see the outrage on his face as he gasped, realizing what she’d done. She kicked her legs and passed him, sticking out her tongue as she went. 

“Beware, Brienne, I think there are krakens about!” he called after her, and she tried to look back at him. He was gone. 

She stopped swimming and dove, trying to find him before her could hinder her again. The water was darker here, bay weeds waving slowly in the filtered light. _Where was he_? She surfaced, suddenly afraid. Could he be having difficulty swimming with only one hand?

Arms wrapped around her waist from behind, and a leg hooked around her thigh, twisting her like a corkscrew as she flailed and laughed. She tried to push at her attacker, but as quickly as he’d come he was gone. 

“Jaime!” She yelled, trying for exasperation, but only managing a breathless laugh. She looked around and saw him treading water several yards away, attempting to look innocent but only managing to appear smug. “You’re dead, Lannister! “ 

She ducked under the surface, kicking against the bottom and propelling herself to where he’d been.  She saw him pass above her and with a hard thrust against the sand she shot herself up at him, meeting him chest to chest and bearing him down as they grappled, arms and legs and grasping hands, rolling among the weeds.

As they struggled, both running out of air, Jaime’s face loomed and his mouth found hers and lingered, unmistakably kissing her. In her surprise, Brienne released him and he shot to the surface for air. She floated up more slowly, dreading to see him waiting, mocking and amused at his jest.

Surfacing, she inhaled, her chest heaving from more than lack of air. She wanted to turn and swim back, forget the contest. Forget the trembling in her limbs, the quavering of her heart. Disoriented, she needed to figure out which direction to swim. She looked around and saw Jaime, treading water next to the buoy. 

He wasn’t smiling. The look in his eyes wasn’t arrogant and derisive as she’d expected. Jaime looked as unsure as she felt, possibly more so.

“I told you there were monsters in these waters,” he said apologetically.

Brienne found herself swimming toward him rather than the shore. When she was close she looked at him, reassuring herself that she’d read his expression correctly. 

“I’m not afraid of monsters,” she said softly, and he kissed her again.


End file.
